by C. Elizabeth Raymond (1992)
George Wingfield was a major figure in Nevada history in the early decades of the twentieth century, and his legacy is felt throughout the state even today. A political and economic titan, he made a fortune in the gold fields of central Nevada and promptly bought a chain of banks and several hotels. Wingfield was a Republican party leader who was also influential among Democrats. His power was legendary and prevailing, as demonstrated by the nearly universal belief that he ran a bipartisan political machine. For a number of years Wingfield was described, without exaggeration, as the owner and operator of the state of Nevada. Some have revered him as Nevada's benevolent "friend." Others have condemned him as a "sagebrush caesar," a man who politically dominated the state "as arbitrarily as the czar ruled Russia." Elizabeth Raymond's biography depicts the man and his times, from his humble birth in Arkansas in 1876 until his death in Reno in 1959.^ Wingfield became a significant power in Nevada partly because he remained in the state with all of his money instead of leaving as other millionaires had done. His authority became increasingly contentious as his political activities gradually reshaped the state to coincide with his personal tastes and economic interests. His investments gave him national prominence and tremendous influence in a sparsely populated state, where an economic reliance on divorce and gambling was controversial. Ultimately, both political opponents and outside observers came to resent Wingfield's control. By the 1930s, when his banks collapsed, Wingfield was so bitterly resented that all attempts to reorganize and reopen them failed. In 1935, defeated and shorn of political power, Wingfield declared personal bankruptcy. Although a second fabulous gold mine brought him another fortune, he never recovered the political dominance he enjoyed at the height of his career in the 1920s.^ When Wingfield died in 1959, he had the satisfaction of witnessing the flourishing tourism-based economy he had worked so hard to promote.
Paul Moon
Against the background of a people in almost terminal crisis, Ngapua emerges as a potential saviour, with a career plagued by powerful opponents who at times conspire to defeat him. This epic journey into the life of one of the greatest Maori leaders of the last two centuries also offers what is, at times, a major reinterpretation of Maori politics.
Rena Pederson
Drawing on exclusive interviews, a journalist and former State Department speechwriter sheds new light on Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi, who inspired Burma's first steps towards democracy, and her lifelong fight for liberty.
W. Jeffrey Tatum
Publius Clodius Pulcher was a prominent political figure during the last years of the Roman Republic. The first modern, comprehensive biography of Clodius, The Patrician Tribune traces his career from its earliest stages until its end in 52 B.C., when he was murdered by a political rival. Arguing that Clodius's story is crucial to our understanding of Roman constitutional, religious, and social history, Jeffrey Tatum explores Clodius's political successes, as well as the limitations of his popular strategies, within the broader context of Roman political practices. In the process, Tatum illuminates the relationship between the political contests of Rome's elite and the daily struggles of Rome's urban poor.
Christopher S. Celenza
“Machiavellian”—used to describe the ruthless cunning of the power-obsessed and the pitiless—is never meant as a compliment. But the man whose<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"> name became shorthand for all that is ugly in politics was more engaging and nuanced than his reputation suggests. Christopher S. Celenza’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Machiavelli: A Portrait removes the varnish of centuries to reveal not only the hardnosed political philosopher but the skilled diplomat, learned commentator on ancient history, comic playwright, tireless letter writer, and thwarted lover. Machiavelli’s hometown was the epicenter of the Italian Renaissance in the fifteenth century, a place of unparalleled artistic and intellectual attainments. But Florence was also riven by extraordinary violence. War and public executions were commonplace—Machiavelli himself was imprisoned and brutally tortured at the behest of his own government. These experiences left a deep impression on this keen observer of power politics, whose two masterpieces—<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">The Prince and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">The Discourses—draw everywhere on the hard-won wisdom gained from navigating a treacherous world. But like many of Machiavelli’s fellow Florentines, he also immersed himself in the Latin language and wisdom of authors from the classical past. And for all of Machiavelli’s indifference to religion, vestiges of Christianity remained in his thought, especially the hope for a redeemer—a prince who would provide the stability so rare in Machiavelli’s worldly experience.